exercising demons

the third shower in the bathroom
has no door, holds only a girl always singing
encased in four tiled walls and a wildfire perfume

for her it is such a comforting thing to be
caged, to breathe in steam and brimstone
and the pubic hair caught in the drain
no one can hold her breasts like she can--
clean half-moon fingernails against her own skin

she shakes her hair out like a flag and grows old
slowly, until she forgets whether it is the water
or time that is wrinkling the pads of her feet